


Wait For Me, I'm Coming Too

by another_crack_in_time_and_space



Series: Dragon Age Drabbles [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Drabble, M/M, Post Trespasser, Romance, Tumblr Prompt, red jennies are involved, sneaking into minrathous like, spoilers for game canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2016-04-14
Packaged: 2018-06-02 05:36:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6553072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/another_crack_in_time_and_space/pseuds/another_crack_in_time_and_space
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An elf sneaks into Minrathous, a man misses his heart, and what do we have but these precious few moments between them?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wait For Me, I'm Coming Too

There had been a change in the magisterium since Dorian had gone back, a quiet, unassuming power struggle. He and Maeveris had just founded the Lucerni, still in it’s humble beginnings as movements go. His time was absolutely consumed by it, more so than it should have been. It left his father’s arrangements to his mother, who took it with many glasses of wine. He’d done his own mourning in Halamshiral. Too much of it, if anyone asked him. He’d lost his father and almost lost his lover all in the matter of a few days. He left a mere week after bringing the Inquisitor back from the crossroads, else he’d have forfeited his seat. The loss stung bitterly, and it was one he didn’t want to dwell on, if he could help it.

Night in Minrathous was very rarely quiet. There were parties to attend, people to win, power to gain. Especially this late in the summer months small groups would walk avenue to avenue, voices twinkling like bells. The massive sandstone houses that lined the streets only echo back at them, enticing each visitor with music and light. Everyone wanted more in these days.

So here he was, opposite Maeveris and a strong Antivan port, watching people walk to and fro below them. He’d been worrying at his brow for nearly half and hour, only mildly keeping up conversation. Finally Mae leaned back in her chair, eyes falling into slits.

“Dorian, I daresay whatever spell you’re under is a strong one.” she tutted, fingers delicately playing with the string of pearls she’d would around her neck. “You’re practically beside yourself.”

“Don’t give me that, I’m...it’s nothing, my dear. I heard Magister Lena is putting on a grand soiree tomorrow,. If we have any chance of gaining her approval, we should attend.” He took another sip from his glass, before setting it down again, tracing the base of it in circles. Lavellan would laugh to see him like this, practically pouting like a child.

“No doubt,” Mae agreed, drawing Dorian’s eyes up from the table. “I should attend. You on the other hand would wither every wine you touched.” Dorian scoffed at this.

“You wound me! What have I done to earn this scorn?" Dorian stood as he spoke, his voice light but face falling at the gentle rebuke. He retreated into the apartments he had set up for himself, so he wouldn’t be trapped in his family home. It was finely decorated, largely by Maeveris. Beautiful couches were curved around a fireplace, though its flame was hardly needed. Instead the flat was light by golden sconces against the wall, casting shimmers across the whole room. An infuser of clove oil spiced the air around them. Dorian took comfort in it as he leaned against the back of the couch, hands curling into plush cushion. He lifted one hand tenderly to the crystal he wore around his neck, small enough motion to the untrained eye. “You must forgive me. I was thinking of the south.” he added in a more controlled tone.

“Of course. Why don’t I go get us something to eat, hmm Dori?” Mae rose from her chair on the balcony, approaching him from behind to smooth out the tense line in his shoulders. “I’m sure the Rivani cook has something special, no?” He nodded at this and she left with a kiss to his cheek. Altogether alone in the room Dorian was unsure what to do with himself. He began to pace of all things. Perhaps he could call Lavellan, just to check in. No, too clingy. Was it?

Unknown to him in almost equal time to the Lucerni, a chapter of Red Jenny had appeared in the city. They largely avoided messing with the magisterium, but the rest of the lot were fair game, so far as they were concerned. The Red Jenny here had once been a slave, dark skinned and fast of foot. He spoke much more coherently than his inquisition counter part, and was a touch less abrasive. He had seen to this mission personally, perched on a rooftop a few houses over. Beside him was a much paler elf, crouched in a more feral position than his own. The damn Dalish always set him on edge, with their wild spirits and stubbornness. They brought trouble when they were introduced to a house. This one though, had done a whole lot of good for his people, in all meanings of the word. But even now Red Jenny narrowed his eyes at him, watching the man shift back and forth. Could he keep up?

“You’re sure this will work? He’s alone?” The man asked. He raised his arm awkwardly to the empty space at his left side, then seemingly realized what he was doing and dropped his hand again. “I have a very good chance of catching a fireball in the chest if he isn’t” _I have a very good chance of catching one in the chest if he is_

“He’s alone, Inqu-er, ser. The woman left. Don’t know when she’ll be back though, we have to move now. Ser.” He really had no idea how he was supposed to speak to this man.

“Lead the way, and by the creators, don’t call me ser.”

The pair slipped out of their shadow and leaped down to the balcony below, landing in impossible silence. The man only stumbled once, a stagger to the left before he was right up again and following Red Jenny’s hop across the banister to the second balcony. Here they had to crawl back up. Red scaled the wall with ease, but his partner could only watch. He dragged his eyes over the patio furniture and looked up again at his guide. He raised a hand in wait and carefully grabbed a chair. Using it as a stepping stool he got the rest of the way up though careful placed feet against the window sill, and minor assistance. Red made sure not to touch the limb, out of his own disgust, but it worked for the companion just as well. The skin was over sensitive constantly and he could already feel pain pooling in his shoulder. By the time he finally scrambled to his feet his back was on fire.

They didn’t risk resting with only one more house to go. His hand shook with the anxiety of finally being able to see Dorian again. He unstuck his tongue in his painfully dry mouth, swallowing hard. He couldn’t afford to get weak now.

“Almost there,” He whispered. “Mythal’eneste, you should get hazard pay.” Red laughed at this, softly.

“We don’t even get paid,” He teased, gesturing to the city. “Not until we see a noble drop into his own pudding at least. Oh the look on Comte De Chany’s face when he found his blood pudding all down his front.” Red shook his head and waved ahead. “Let’s move.”

They set off once more, running like wolves in the night. Here they just had to make a simple jump onto Dorian’s roof and his job would be done. They paused at the lip, both judging the distance, one with a hunter’s eye and the other a thieves. Both elves backed up, turning to look at each other.

“Can you make that yourself?” He nodded his head to the gap. The man nodded, bringing his hand to tug at his hair. “Be wary, the woman may have returned.” He nodded and Red turned on his heel.

“Wait! I couldn’t have done this without you.” Lavellan looted around in his pocket, producing a scrape of paper. “Message from another Red Jenny,” He handed it over and smiled. “Hazard pay.” With a swiftness unhindered by the tension in his muscles he loped over the roof and hurdled toward the other. He landed in a roll, to quiet his steps. Across from him Red was barely a shadow.

Lavellan made his way to the edge of the roof, listening. There was no conversation, but that didn’t mean his love was alone. They were closer to each other than they had been in months. Technically Lavellan was supposed to be in the free marshes somewhere, but he turned his mount north as soon as he could. His party lost him somewhere around the Nevarran border, which was more than he gave them credit for. The rest of the trek was done alone. He hadn’t stopped for more than food and drink, and never stayed long. The fewer people talking about a mysterious elf traveling alone in a land dominated by the slavery of his kind, the better.

He had been on his way to see Varric in Kirkwall, at Leliana’s suggestion. The trail on Fen’Harel was as hot as it ever would be and yet his own advisers were shipping him to all corners of the world. Now he’d need a story for Dorian, but he could always come up with something off the cuff. Little planning was his style.

Gently he eased himself down onto the balcony, using the giant ferns Maeveris had for cover. Between the fronds warm golden light poured over his face, glowing in his eyes eerily. There Dorian leaned against a couch, rubbing at his jaw, every inch more beautiful than Lavellan remembered. His skin seemed hewn from bronze, the way it shined in the candle light. His hair had grown longer, now tied into a tasteful knot at the back of his head. Lavellans hand ached to run through it. Dorian sighed heavily, the sound sending ripples through the elf’s chest.Dorian’s hand grabbed the sending crystal at his chest, frowning at it experimentally. Lavellan touched his own, tenderly.

In a motion Dorian snapped his open and whispered to it, the other one lighting up under Lavellans fingers. He fumbled to keep the necklace hidden scrambling further back from the door way. His residual limb swung out and knocked a pot to the ground with a crash. In a panic Lavellan stood from his position to attempt a  climb back up but realized he couldn’t if he wanted to. When he turned again an orchid went over the banister. Trying to keep balance he sent one foot through a pot and his good hand was all that kept him from the ground below.

“Amatus!?” Dorian asked, standing in striking silhouette of the archway, having approached during the chaos. Lavellan looked up sheepishly. So making things up had been his style but not his victories. His face burnt red as he stuttered out a greeting.

“Wow, is this...your balcony? Small world, I thought this was...someone else’s balcony. Amazing, really. I suppose then that these are...your ferns I’m standing in?” Dorian was all but amused at this display. He was stunned to silence.

“Actually, they’re mine. Who’s this?” Maeveris had appeared behind him, and a tray of food behind her. Her hands were already crackling with lightining.

“Maeveris, the Inquisitor. You’ve exchanged many a letter.” Her face changed immediately, popping into one of shock. “He’s supposed to be in the Frostbacks, but the day is full of surprises.” Together they helped him get free of the mess he made, Maeveris asking him a hundred questions, which Lavellan bubbled answers for with polite energy. Dorian was still uncharacteristically silent, and had taken place on his left side, touching and guiding him gently. Once they’d brushed much of the dirt away he was invited inside to sit and eat with them. Mae called down for the extra plate this time, with an unladylike holler.

“Are you alright?” this last question was directed at him when Lavellan sunk gingerly into the couch.

“It’s harder to do things without...” Lavellan shifted his arm for emphasis. “Obviously. I didn’t get here in a very traditional route, falling in on the veranda and all.” Mae perched opposite the pair on an ottoman, and folded her legs beneath her as if she were about to hear a story.

“Why travel all this way to end up in the middle of my ferns, inquisitor? We all know it’s dangerous for you to be here, what with your...er...” Mae seemed at a loss.

“You mean my elfyness?” He and Dorian chuckled in unison, but both stopped when they noticed it. Things were awkward, if one wanted to understate it. Dorian tapped against his bottom lip and Lavellan shifted every so often, a gap of space blooming between them. “Yes, there’s that. I just wanted to...drop in?”

Dorian snorted. “Honestly, amatus-” He grimaced when Mae’s eyes lit up. She latched on greedily, like a mabari with a play thing.

“So this is who you’ve been pining over all these weeks? The Inquisitor! Oh you naughty boy.” Lavellan snapped his head to Dorian. He hadn’t told her about them? A sharp pain constricted his chest, and he just as quickly looked elsewhere.

“Maveris, if you please! We are adults, not gossiping school girls.” Mae giggled, eyes dancing between them. Lavellan felt like he could crawl out of his skin. “Why are you here, anyway?” Dorian asked again, voice marginally less tense when he spoke to the inquisitor.

“Well now it’s obvious that he wanted to see the man he loved. Honestly Dori, for someone who’s read as much romance as you.” Dorian rolled his eyes. “It’s all the more dashing that his life is in danger.”

“No it is not _all the more dashing_ , and he still hasn’t answered.” Dorian huffed as Mae began picking over some of the food she had ordered, pulling a cheese tart apart.

“I came here to see you.” He parroted. “And I climbed a few rooftops. But that parts less difficult.” Dorian narrowed his eyes, but put his arm over the back of the couch all the same, playing with the curly mop on his head. Lavellan glanced toward him, gaze soft and hopeful.

“I’ll go get wine! You two see quite...wrapped up.” Mae dashed out of the room in a ball of excitement at this discovery.

“That Mae is a handful.” Lavellan said quietly. He shifted closer to Dorian, careful not to knock himself off balance.  “But, then so are you, I guess.” Dorian smirked playfully and cupped Lavellan’s cheek, tracing the lines of vallaslin on his cheeks.

“I’m the handful and you ran away to go see your paramour. In the middle of an unknown war, alone, no less. Amatus, what am I going to do with you?” Lavellan leaned into these words, moving closer until he could gently brush their lips together. Dorian reacted with far more initiative, pressing hard into the kiss. He had intended to keep his cards close, beacuse internally he was a screaming mess. The inquisitor here ruined everything he’d worked so hard for. But the weight on his chest had lifted and he could practically dance for joy. When they parted a blush roared up over both of them.

“You could always keep me around. I’m fun at parties.” Lavellan wagged his eyebrows as if that would influence Dorian’s decision. Or maybe it was a demonstration of some sort.

“Ah, yes, we should ask the Duchess of Florainne just how much life you really bring to a ball.” They both split into terrible giggles at his awful joke. but clung onto each other still.

“So I can stay? Just for a little bit?” Lavellan asked when they caught their breath. Dorian opened his mouth to speak but paused and examined the more pronounced lines around his eyes and the slight downturn of his mouth. While he may be joking most of the time Lavellan was hurting. If all he truly wanted was Dorian, and more importantly if all he needed was Dorian than who was he to say no.

“Was there ever any doubt?” he asked, to which Lavellan responded with more kisses and a sorely missed smile. Mae appeared a second later, wine bottles in hand and they drank and ate through the rest of the night, retiring only when Maeveris swore she could see the sun rising over the city. Dorian never slept better.


End file.
